


Unethical

by honooko



Category: VIXX
Genre: Bodyguard!AU, M/M, Minor Violence, Nobody gets hurt I promise, Sasaeng Fan(s), Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 12:40:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12984273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honooko/pseuds/honooko
Summary: When a sasaeng takes things too far, singer Jung Taekwoon has only one good option: hire a bodyguard. Cha Hakyeon is just the man for the job.





	Unethical

**Author's Note:**

> For Isa and Pammie, who both gifted me with the prompt and cheered me along. <3 THIS WAS A GOOD ONE GUYS!

Never in his life would Jung Taekwoon have expected he would ever be in a situation where he might need, of all things, a _bodyguard_. For one thing, he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself; anyone who might try something would quickly find that the slender singer still maintained his former-athlete body, just slightly less. He also was not afraid, in the slightest, of throwing a punch.

It was the latter that had his manager the most concerned.

“Even if it’s clearly self-defense, punching someone won’t look good for you,” Nari informed him. “You getting in any kind of mess like that would be bad for your image and bad for the company.”

Taekwoon sighed; the trigger for this whole mess had been just a weird event by a weird fan. She hadn’t even seemed particularly dangerous until she got to the table where he was signing CDs. Then, in the middle of him quietly thanking her for coming and buying his album, she pulled out a box knife.

“Oppa, I don’t like you talking to all these other girls,” she said. “Stop it right now, or you’ll be sorry.”

“Put it down,” Taekwoon warned her, staying seated. Maybe if he told her instead of the venue’s security, she’d listen.

“I said stop,” she repeated. All he had to do was stand; he wasn’t particularly intimidating most of the time, just quiet and tall, but under specific circumstances, he was tall and _visibly angry_.

“Security,” he called without breaking eye-contact. “She’s holding a knife.” The fans around her immediately backed off as security grabbed the girl and pulled her away. Taekwoon took a moment to breathe and push off the anger before sitting down again, and beckoning the next nervous girl over with a hand and a gentle smile. Most of his fans were very sweet; they more than made up for the troubling ones.

The problem got considerably worse when she began to actively stalk him. At first it was just slightly disturbing fan letters sent to his agency—then they were sent directly to his apartment building. Then taped to his front door.

Then, one night, he came home to find a letter sitting on his kitchen counter, and a blurry polaroid of his spare key in a girl’s hand.

The police had been largely unhelpful; they told him to change his locks, or move, or both.

“I can’t be with you 24/7, and even if I could, if she’s armed again there’s nothing either of us can really do,” Nari pointed out, not for the first time. “You need someone, whether you like it or not.”

Taekwoon sighed, because no, he definitely didn’t like it, but he saw her point.

“Anyway, I already hired someone,” she informed him. “He had excellent references and recommendations.”

“You hired someone before I met him?” Taekwoon asked in horror. He was not good with new people; the only reason he could keep doing fan events was because he was able to think about it as talking to people who already knew him. In nearly every other way, he was shy to the point of silence. Choosing someone who would be with him a large amount of time without consulting him first was very... rude.

“Like I said, he’s well-recommended,” Nari said. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“And if I’m not?”

“Then we’ll find someone else,” Nari replied, dismissive. “Right now, we need someone yesterday.”

Taekwoon was not looking forward to this.

 

“Taekwoon, this is Cha Hakyeon,” Nari said. “Hakyeon-ssi, this is—”

“Jung Taekwoon,” Hakyeon said with a warm smile. “I know, thank you. It’s nice to meet you.”

Taekwoon stared at him. Hakyeon did not look like a bodyguard; he looked like a relatively tall, lightly-built dancer or model maybe. His suit was a nice cut, obviously custom, fitting him precisely. Taekwoon had a few centimeters on him, and was quite a bit broader. It was probably lucky that their main concern was a small young woman, because Hakyeon looked like a medium-to-large size dog could probably overpower him pretty quickly.

Taekwoon just nodded at him; he was bad at small talk at the best of times. Hakyeon at least didn’t seem offended by it, and simply turned back to Nari with the same warm smile that was so un-bodyguard-like.

“Will we be in this building much longer?” he asked her. 

“No more than ten minutes,” she answered, glancing at her watch. “I have to catch the PD for a second though.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” Hakyeon told her, bowing slightly and gesturing with one hand. His warm smile never wavered; Nari was visibly blushing.

“I’ll be back with the car,” she told Taekwoon quickly before darting out of the room. Hakyeon watched the door close, then walked over to place his hand on the surface and push.

It clicked shut. Hakyeon sighed and turned around to look at Taekwoon with a sort of ‘what can you do’ expression.

“Slow-close doors,” he said. “They never latch as well.”

Taekwoon nodded, not really agreeing or anything so much as not knowing what else to do. For his part, Hakyeon seemed unbothered by the silence, because he just kept smiling. Taekwoon didn’t know what to do; should they talk? Should he ask Hakyeon questions? Was he supposed to tell Hakyeon about himself? What were the social expectations of a _bodyguard_?

“Please don’t let me disrupt you,” Hakyeon said. “I’m sure you have a lot to do.”

“Not really,” Taekwoon said. The performance was over; he’d said his polite goodbyes to the staff and was just waiting for Nari to come back with the car. Normally he would be going over lyrics, or messing around on his phone, but he couldn’t help but be _aware_ of Hakyeon’s presence. Hakyeon tilted his head.

“You seem uncomfortable,” Hakyeon said. Taekwoon nodded again. “I see. Would it help if I sat down?”

“Are you allowed to do that?” Taekwoon asked.

“By you, or in general?”

“Is there a difference?” Taekwoon said, surprised. Hakyeon laughed; it was a bright sound, and Taekwoon smiled for a moment before he caught himself.

“You can tell me to do or not do whatever you like, as long as it doesn’t interfere with protecting you,” Hakyeon said. “If you don’t want me to sit, I won’t.”

“It’s weird,” Taekwoon said after a moment of hesitation. “That you’re standing when I’m not.”

“I won’t ask you to stand,” Hakyeon said, laughing again. “I don’t feel short very often, but I take it quite personally when I do, unfortunately.” 

“How do you know I’m taller than you?” Taekwoon asked. Hakyeon seemed amused by the question.

“I can see your legs,” he said as if that was sufficient. When Taekwoon looked at his own legs and then back up in confusion, he laughed again and waved his hand. “I’m joking; your entire profile is online. I read your Wikipedia article. Your nephew is about the same age as my niece.”

“You have a niece?” Taekwoon said, suddenly more interested now that they were talking about babies, and his precious nephew in particular.

“I have a niece and five nephews,” Hakyeon said with an unmistakably proud smile. “We’re a big family.”

“We’ve only got Minyul so far, but my sister says maybe next year they’ll have another baby. And my other sister just got engaged,” Taekwoon gushed, extremely invested in any conversation that let him brag about Minyul to a person who, admittedly, couldn’t leave, but did seem genuinely interested.

“I’d love to see pictures sometime,” Hakyeon said very sincerely. It was both the best and worst thing he could have possibly said, because Taekwoon grabbed his phone off the table so fast he almost threw it. His sister sent him photos almost every day, and they face-timed once a week if he couldn’t visit for some reason. Taekwoon immediately went looking for a picture of Minyul eating a rice ball and looking like he’d just smashed it all over his face, but before he could hold it out to show Hakyeon, Hakyeon stood up.

He turned towards the door; it opened, but not very far because Hakyeon’s foot was in the way. The gap was just wide enough to see Nari’s face; Hakyeon pulled his foot back with a sheepish ‘whoops!’ but something about it just seemed... odd.

“Geez, watch your toes,” Nari scolded him half-heartedly as she came in. She was whirling the keys to the SUV around one finger. “Taekwoon-ah, let’s go. Somebody said there was an accident and we have to go around through the warehouse district.”

“Who said that?” Hakyeon inquired mildly. Nari blinked.

“One of the crew?” she said.

“Do you know them?” Hakyeon pressed, his smile never wavering.

“Well, I mean—not personally, of course, but—”

“Then why do you believe them?” Hakyeon asked, still mild. “Why are you changing your plans based on information given to you by a stranger?”

Nari was staring at him. Taekwoon expected his expression to be quite similar.

“Further, why are you changing your plans to plans _suggested_ by the aforementioned stranger?”

Hakyeon pulled up his sleeve to look at his watch; it was a smart watch, and a few quick taps were apparently all he needed to raise his gaze again to look Nari dead in the eye. For the first time since he’d been introduced, he was unsmiling—and serious.

“There’s no accident,” Hakyeon said. “We’ll take the original route.” His soft, honey-toned voice hadn’t changed, but there was something cold about it that Taekwoon would have sworn wasn’t there before.

“...Do you think—” Nari began, but Hakyeon cut her off with a shake of his head.

“It doesn’t matter whether there was a plan, or just a simple misunderstanding,” he said. “Either way: please don’t change your routines without consulting me. It makes things more... difficult.”

“I’m sorry,” Nari said. Hakyeon’s smile and general air of amiability returned.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Hakyeon assured her gently. “This is a learning process.”

Taekwoon realized abruptly that the thing they would be learning would almost certainly be how much more afraid they should be every single day. As if reading his mind, Hakyeon turned to Taekwoon and smiled in something closer to a promise.

“Please don’t worry,” he said. “I’m good at my job.”

“Okay,” Taekwoon said, wishing it was that easy to just _trust_ him.

 

On the drive home, Taekwoon was quiet. Generally he and Nari would chat a bit, but she took pride in her spotless driving record in a country notorious for accidents, so he tried not to distract her and listened to music on his headphones for longer drives. Hakyeon had both refused the front passenger seat and forbidden Taekwoon from sitting in it. He didn’t explain either decision, and Taekwoon honestly preferred not to know. Hakyeon was silent, attention moving from window to window in a smooth, constant way that very quickly became easy to ignore.

When they pulled up to his apartment building, Hakyeon put a careful hand on Taekwoon’s shoulder, keeping him in his seat. He then reached forward with his other hand to tap Nari, and point.

“Is that car usually here?” he asked, gesturing at a dirty, unassuming silver sedan. It was one of those cheap, standard models that roughly 60% of the population owned.

“I... don’t know,” Nari said nervously. “I haven’t really paid attention.”

“Hm,” Hakyeon said. “Please stay here for a moment.” Before either of them could say a word, he slipped out the side door and casually strolled towards the silver car. Instead of approaching directly, he went to the buzzer on the gate and pushed it, waiting as if he expected someone to answer. After a few minutes of ‘waiting,’ he turned back to the car. Still casual, he approached and tapped on the driver-side window. It rolled down a bit, but it was too far for Taekwoon to see inside.

Suddenly Hakyeon jerked back; the car was pulling away quickly and narrowly missed clipping him as it sped off. Hakyeon watched it go, then pulled a small notepad out from inside his jacket, along with a short and narrow pen. He wrote something down and returned.

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Hakyeon said. Taekwoon frowned.

“Who were they?” he asked.

“Not your stalker,” Hakyeon said. “You said she was likely in high school, right? Not many high school students can drive, let alone have a car.”

“So _who was it_?” Taekwoon repeated. Hakyeon shrugged.

“I didn’t ask.”

“You said something,” Nari pointed out.

“I asked them where the best spot was,” Hakyeon said, smiling.

“Best spot for what?”

“Avoiding the new security cameras,” Hakyeon explained.

“...There are new cameras?” Nari asked.

“No,” Hakyeon said with that same, unwavering smile. “There aren’t. But now they think there are, and they were concerned enough about being caught on them that they decided to leave. Probably just paparazzi, and no one I recognized, so I don’t think there’s any reason to be particularly worried.”

Even with Hakyeon’s reassurances, Taekwoon couldn’t help but feel nervous. Paparazzi were unavoidable, of course, but his residence wasn’t well known, and he wasn’t a big enough star to be worth it for most paparazzi. Fan sites hated the poor lighting and preferred venues and events. Knowing someone had just parked outside his apartment, _waiting_ for him... He’d been annoyed by the letters to his agency. He’d been angry at the ones in his mailbox. He’d been disturbed by the one on his door.

He’d been terrified of the one on his table, and the polaroid proving he wasn’t safe, at all. He tried to keep his fear to himself, so he wouldn’t worry Nari, but he hadn’t slept comfortably through the night once since then.

Hakyeon waited for Taekwoon to get out of the car, then put a hand gently on his back.

“You’re okay,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t let you out of the car if I didn’t think it was safe.”

“There was someone there,” Taekwoon answered, glancing nervously at where the car had been.

“They left,” Hakyeon said. The hand on his back started moving, just the tiniest bit, in a soothing manner. From any other person, it would have felt too intimate and familiar, but for some reason when Hakyeon did it, Taekwoon felt... a little better. “You’re okay. Please trust me.”

He nodded, not entirely sure why he was comforted.

Nari came around from the back, carrying a small suitcase that she held out to Hakyeon; he bowed politely as he accepted it.

“It’s okay if I leave you guys here, right?” she asked. “If it’s just the same to you, I’d like to head out and try to beat traffic.”

“That’s fine,” Hakyeon said brightly. “Thank you.”

“Wait,” Taekwoon said, suddenly connecting Hakyeon, the suitcase, and his apartment. “Wait, are you _staying here?_ ”

“Where else would I be?” Hakyeon asked. “Your stalker got in, right? I can’t just leave you on the doorstep of the place she’s already broken into once.”

“We changed the lock,” Taekwoon informed him.

“The lock hardly stopped her the first time,” Hakyeon reminded him. “Until we can be sure that’s impossible to do again, I have to stay close to you.”

Taekwoon tried to come up with a counter-argument, only to find he didn’t have one. Hakyeon’s logic was, unfortunately, sound. Taekwoon heaved a sigh; he was already expecting to sleep poorly. Having a stranger in his house—even one there to keep him safe—pretty much eliminated the possibility of getting any rest. He’d be too uncomfortable just knowing Hakyeon was there.

Great.

 

Hakyeon watched him fumble with the key; the new lock had a bulkier key and he was still learning the feel of it. It made him self-conscious and the fumbling got worse; he finally gave up on his right hand entirely and just switched to his left. The key finally went in smoothly.

“Consider switching to a keypad,” Hakyeon recommended as he stepped past, but then dropped his arm out to stop Taekwoon from entering.

“By quick glance, does this seem right?” Hakyeon asked him. Taekwoon looked.

“Looks normal,” he said. “Why?”

“I’ve never seen it before,” Hakyeon told him. “I have to learn what it should look like, in order to notice when it doesn’t.”

“Well, this is it,” Taekwoon said, toeing off his shoes in the entryway and dropping his bag unceremoniously on the kitchen counter top. His apartment was quite modest; he didn’t see much point in having anything bigger than basic living required, so the rooms were on the small side: one living room, one bedroom, and one bedroom that he used as a work space slash studio. Decorations were minimal; he had very little need for them seeing as how he almost never had guests.

He glanced at Hakyeon; did he count as a guest?

“Are you hungry?” he asked, aware that it sounded extremely awkward.

“A little,” Hakyeon admitted. “Are you ordering in?”

“No,” Taekwoon said. “I usually don’t. It’s expensive.”

“You’re—well off,” Hakyeon commented, clearly avoiding the word ‘rich’. Taekwoon shrugged.

“It’s still expensive,” he said. “I’d rather spend that money on something fun.”

“What’s fun for you?” Hakyeon asked curiously, tilting his head. From any other person, it would have sounded borderline insulting, but Hakyeon’s expression was warm and inquisitive. Taekwoon wasn’t even sure why it mattered; did Hakyeon need to know his hobbies, or was he just making small talk? He couldn’t possibly care.

Right?

“Music,” Taekwoon said. “I listen to a lot of different stuff, so... I buy a lot of music.”

“Is that why you sing?” Hakyeon asked. “You left sports, right?” Taekwoon stared at him, surprised he knew a detail like that, before remembering that Hakyeon already read up on him. His athletic past was almost certainly available online somewhere.

“After—I left, music was kind of the only thing I cared about,” Taekwoon admitted. 

“It’s good that you had something to turn to,” Hakyeon said. 

“What about you?” Taekwoon asked, curious despite himself. 

“Recently?” Hakyeon said, tapping his chin with one finger as he considered it. “I started doing hot yoga a couple of months ago. It’s very intense.”

Taekwoon blinked; for half a second, his mind had helpfully supplied him with images that he would rather not linger on for too long. Shaking his head to clear them, he turned back to the kitchen.

“I’m going to make dinner,” he said, ending the conversation. 

“I’d like to look around, if that’s alright?” Hakyeon said. “I won’t touch anything.”

“If you want,” Taekwoon said over his shoulder. It wasn’t like he had anything to hi—

“Wait,” Taekwoon said suddenly, whipping around. Hakyeon froze mid-step, looking back. Taekwoon could feel himself flushing. “Don’t—don’t open any drawers.”

Hakyeon raised an eyebrow.

“Drugs, or porn?” he asked primly.

“What!?” Taekwoon squeaked.

“Are you hiding drugs, or porn?” Hakyeon repeated.

“Why would you think I’ve got _drugs!?_ ”

“So it’s porn,” Hakyeon said. “Alright.”

Taekwoon had absolutely no response and Hakyeon walked away without addressing it any further. For the sake of his blood pressure, Taekwoon decided to just pretend like Hakyeon was going to miraculously forget the entire thing. 

 

He put a plate in front of Hakyeon without making eye contact; he was still thinking about Hakyeon’s question and how he both did and did not want to know what Hakyeon had come across. For his part, Hakyeon seemed utterly unfazed before looking at his plate in surprise.

“This looks fantastic,” he told Taekwoon, beaming. Taekwoon didn’t think it was anything particularly special to get excited over: he was tired, so he’d decided just to throw some kimchi fried rice together and call it good. The handful of small side dishes were more habit than anything; he ate a lot of food. There were two of them; that meant even more food.

“It’s just fried rice,” Taekwoon attempted, but Hakyeon was shaking his head.

“It’s more than most people can manage,” he said. Before Taekwoon could argue the point, Hakyeon took a heaping spoonful, immediately smiling around it. Rather than speak with his mouth full, he gave Taekwoon an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Taekwoon felt the flush returning, but this was a different kind of embarrassment. He settled in his own chair, at his own plate, and focused on the task at hand: absolutely inhaling all the food in front of him. He realized mid-chew that he forgotten a drink, and looked up at Hakyeon to asked what he wanted.

Hakyeon was staring at him with an odd smile on his face.

“What?” Taekwoon asked a touch defensively.

“I think you forgot to tell me about your other hobby.”

Taekwoon tilted his head in confusion.

“Eating,” Hakyeon elaborated, gesturing at Taekwoon’s plate. “You clearly enjoy it.” 

Taekwoon looked down, then back up.

“It’s not a hobby,” he said, aware he was sounding somewhat petulant. “I need to eat to survive.”

“Obviously,” Hakyeon granted him. “But if that was all that it was, I don’t think you’d blow through it so fast.” Taekwoon frowned at him, pointedly not breaking eye contact while he took another heaping spoonful of fried rice. Hakyeon laughed at him. “I’m not saying it’s bad, it’s just cute.”

“I’m not cute,” Taekwoon protested immediately.

“Only cute people protest being cute,” Hakyeon informed him.

“I’m getting some water,” Taekwoon said, standing abruptly and turning around so Hakyeon wouldn’t see his face getting red. “I’ll bring you some.”

Hakyeon was stupid.

 

“Are you going to sleep?” Taekwoon asked as Hakyeon removed his tie and placed it neatly in his small, open suitcase.

“Sort of,” Hakyeon told him. “I’ll doze. I’m a pretty light sleeper anyway.”

“But then you’ll be tired tomorrow,” Taekwoon pointed out. Hakyeon smiled at him again; Taekwoon wished he would stop doing that. It made him terribly uncomfortable.

“I’ll be fine,” Hakyeon said. “Don’t worry.”

Taekwoon still felt weird about having another human being sleeping in his house, even if it was a bodyguard who wouldn’t, apparently, be 100% sleeping anyway. He also still wasn’t sure if Hakyeon counted as a guest or not. He existed in this weird space of not invited, but also not invasive. He wasn’t a friend, but he wasn’t a stranger either, exactly. Taekwoon had already brought out a spare pillow and blanket for Hakyeon to use as he “dozed” on the couch.

Taekwoon also usually took a bath before bed, but that seemed extraordinarily more uncomfortable. It wasn’t like Hakyeon would watch; that would be absurd. At the same time, Taekwoon still couldn’t quite shake his awareness of Hakyeon.

“I’m sorry,” Hakyeon said suddenly, jerking Taekwoon out of his anxiety-ridden thoughts.

“What for?” Taekwoon asked, confused.

“For disrupting you,” Hakyeon said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “Everyone has habits in their own home; I’m throwing yours off.”

“Not really,” Taekwoon lied. Hakyeon smiled in a way that suggested he wasn’t falling for it. As if to reinforce his lie, Taekwoon said, “I’m just going to wash up.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Hakyeon said, making a shooing gesture with one hand. Taekwoon marched away stiffly, determined to go through with his usual nighttime activities as if he was blessedly alone. He grabbed a fresh towel from the cabinet and headed for the bathroom; maybe if he just focused on each step, he could forget about how weird everything was. It sort-of worked; as he bathed, he managed to put Hakyeon out of his mind long enough to finally relax.

As he got out and toweled himself dry, he realized that he’d made a terrible mistake.

Normally, he’d wrap the towel around his waist and head to the laundry rack for things to sleep in. Unfortunately, both the rack and his bedroom were across the apartment—past Hakyeon, who wasn’t sleeping. This left him two options: either he could go for the clothing rack, or he could just book it straight to his bedroom and find something in there.

Or he could ask Hakyeon to bring him things, saving himself an embarrassing walk. That would obviously require Hakyeon to handle not just his shorts and a t-shirt, but also underwear.

Nothing about this was going to be okay, but that just seemed like a phenomenally terrible idea on multiple axis’s.

Fine. If he was going to be embarrassed no matter what, he’d rather be embarrassed in a way that at least outwardly seemed like he wasn’t embarrassed. Wrapping the towel _firmly_ , he decided his best course was to walk, like normal, to his clothing rack and select, _like normal_ what he would sleep in, then _even more normally_ walk to his room. If he could go the entire way without making eye contact with Hakyeon at any point, that would be ideal.

Taekwoon took a deep breath; this was going to suck.

On the approach to the sofa, he already knew he was flushing. He walked past and absolutely refused to look in Hakyeon’s direction; if he just kept going, maybe it would be fine. He reached the rack and grabbed what he needed—he was mere steps away from his door, when Hakyeon ruined everything.

“You could have asked me,” he informed Taekwoon. Against his better judgment, he turned around, but Hakyeon wasn’t even looking at him. He was reading a magazine. “I don’t mind.”

“ _I mind,_ ” Taekwoon bristled, but Hakyeon just shrugged.

“Suit yourself,” he said mildly. He flicked his gaze up from the magazine to add, “I’m just saying: now I’ve seen you mostly-naked.”

Taekwoon fled to his bedroom before Hakyeon could make the situation any worse than he already had.

 

The nightmare was a weird combination of things he’d dreamed before: his injury in high school was exaggerated to a degree that he couldn’t run or even walk smoothly, despite the intense awareness of something chasing him. The second dream ran into the first, with the nebulous monster turning into a warped version of his stalker, faster and giggling, her box-knife turning into a machete that he kept only barely dodging. He started shouting at her to leave him alone, to stop following him, asking if she’d lost her mind—none of it had any effect, so he was just limping along as a shadow-girl nearly beheaded him for the hundredth time.

Taekwoon woke up to a warm hand lifting his arm. He blinked; Hakyeon had picked up his wrist and brought him to consciousness in the least jarring way he’d ever experienced; most people would have gone with shaking. Hakyeon, apparently, did not.

He was also looking at Taekwoon with open concern, and Taekwoon didn’t entirely know how to deal with that. He must have looked pretty bad because Hakyeon reached out and very gently finger-combed his hair down in a calming manner. Taekwoon stared at him without pulling away; he realized belatedly that Hakyeon had lost the suit in favor of a very soft-looking t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked distressingly comfortable.

“You were shouting,” Hakyeon said simply. Taekwoon waited for him to ask, to pry, to be _invasive_ —but he didn’t.

“Aren’t you going to ask?” Taekwoon asked after a long period of silence.

“No,” Hakyeon said. “You don’t want me to.”

“How—”

“Dreams are very personal. Private.” Hakyeon interrupted. “They also reveal a lot.”

Taekwoon stared at him more.

“You’re welcome to tell me, if you want to,” Hakyeon said. “But I won’t make you. Or ask you.” 

“It was her,” Taekwoon said without thinking. “The girl.” Hakyeon made a sympathetic noise of affirmation. “She was chasing me with this huge—a machete, I guess. But I couldn’t get away. She was always right behind me. Nowhere was safe.”

“Do you feel safe now?” Hakyeon asked. Taekwoon shook his head. Hakyeon sat down on his bed next to his knees and looked at him very seriously.

“You are safe,” he said. “I’m right here.”

“No offense,” Taekwoon said softly, “But you’re not—intimidating.”

Hakyeon smiled at him.

“One of my previous clients was a teenage boy,” Hakyeon said. “His father was a witness for a city official corruption case and threats had been made against him and his family. It was supposed to be temporary.”

Taekwoon waited for him to continue; when he didn’t, Taekwoon put a hand on Hakyeon’s, silently encouraging.

“The father was in a serious car crash two days before he testified. It wasn’t clear whether or not the crash was a hit job, but that man gave his sworn testimony from his hospital bed, bless him. The entire time, his son stood there absolutely seething with rage. He hid it well, but it’s difficult for anyone to hide something from me for very long, and I’d already known him for a couple months.”

“You calmed him down,” Taekwoon said, based on what he knew of Hakyeon so far.

“Hardly,” Hakyeon said with an irritated sniff. “He tried to give me the slip and go after the city official himself. I had to literally drag his stupid teenage ass back to his home before somebody, probably him, died. Then I explained to him, _patiently_ , that if he was going to just go out and destroy my career by being an angry idiot, I might as well just chain him down for the rest of his life.”

Hakyeon sighed, but he was smiling.

“So we started working,” he said. “I trained him, every day. Taught him to watch for things. How to predict behavior. How to read someone. How to fight, safely. I was pretty sure if we could bleed a little of the rage off, he’d be a good cop eventually. Even once the threat dissipated and I no longer worked for him, we’d meet up for training a few times a week.”

Suddenly, Hakyeon’s expression was pained.

“He grew. A lot. He’s massive. He used to be so little and cute, but now he’s enormous. He’s also not an idiot anymore, and he has always known better than to _come at me_ because I will _fuck him up_. I don’t care if he’s essentially an oak tree at this point: I can and will beat his ass if I have to.”

“You’d beat a client?” Taekwoon asked.

“If he’s being an idiot, yes,” Hakyeon said with a touch of irritation. “Some people have very poor survival instincts and I have to work much harder than I’d like to.”

“So is the kid a cop now?” Taekwoon asked curiously. Hakyeon huffed.

“No,” he said in a tone that was borderline whining. “He’s a bodyguard. To that singer, Lee Jaehwan.”

“Lee Jaehwan is—”

“ _Completely and utterly lacking any survival instincts whatsoever_ ,” Hakyeon bitched, “Meaning my precious baby Hyukkie is _constantly_ dragging his stupid ass out of danger. _Constantly._ ”

“What’s the point of this story?” Taekwoon asked, attempting to withhold a smile and mostly failing.

“The point is, I don’t have to be intimidating. I just have to be very good, and I am,” he said. “Have a little faith in me.”

Taekwoon wasn’t entirely sure why anything Hakyeon had said was reassuring, but somehow... he did feel at least slightly better. He couldn’t quite picture Hakyeon taking down anything stronger than a kindergartener, but he supposed he could at least give him more than the benefit of the doubt.

“I never thought you were shit at this or anything,” Taekwoon felt the need to clarify.

“Thank you,” Hakyeon said sincerely. With a very wide, bright smile, he added, “Don’t do anything fucking stupid, okay? I’d hate to break you. You’re very pretty, it would be such a shame.”

Taekwoon gaped at him; Hakyeon stood, still with the bright smile.

“Sleep. I’ll be outside if you need anything,” he said, leaving.

Taekwoon put a hand to his cheek; it was warm. He was definitely bright red, and it had definitely started when Hakyeon said he was pretty.

Damn it.

 

Hakyeon was already awake when Taekwoon stumbled out of bed, brain still fogged with sleep. He had most of the suit back on, but the jacket was draped neatly across the back of the sofa with his necktie. He’d also rolled his button-down shirt up to his elbows.

“Good morning,” Hakyeon chirped when he looked up. Taekwoon stared at him, momentarily confused about who he was and why he was there. Then he noticed Hakyeon was holding a mug.

“Coffee?” he inquired hopefully. 

“Tea,” Hakyeon replied. “I found your coffee though, I can make you some.”

Taekwoon nodded without thinking, heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash his face until he felt more human. Usually it wasn’t hard for him to get ready, but he’d been sleeping so poorly recently that every morning now felt like a monumental struggle for existence. By the time he came back out, Hakyeon came up and handed him a steaming cup of coffee—with cream.

“How did you—”

“You drink almost exclusively lattes, according to your manager,” Hakyeon shrugged. “It’s not hard to figure out.”

“Where did you even get tea?” Taekwoon asked, wrapping his hands around the mug and feeling himself climb another rung closer to humanity. “I didn’t know I had any.”

“You don’t,” Hakyeon laughed. “I bring my own.”

Of course he did. Taekwoon took a sip of the coffee, unable to keep the smile off his face. God bless the first person who saw a coffee bean and thought ‘I’m going to cook this then grind it up and then put it in hot water and drink it.’ God. Bless.

“Your schedule today is pretty light,” Hakyeon commented, examining the list Nari had presumably prepared for him. “Just recording and the gym?”

Taekwoon nodded; he’d just finished the most recent round of promotions, so it was back to actually making things. He did a fair bit of composition and arranging, plus lyrics; he liked to think the extra effort was noticeable by the end.

The gym was just habit from doing sports.

The door buzzer rang; without thinking, Taekwoon went to press it and speak into it. Before the words left his mouth, Hakyeon had covered it with his hand; Taekwoon didn’t even hear his approach. He was just abruptly smothered. Jerking his head back, Hakyeon held his free hand with a finger in front of his mouth to hush him. Carefully, he pulled Taekwoon’s hand off the buzzer. When it clicked off, he turned on Taekwoon with more than a little irritation.

“You have a stalker,” he scolded. “The last thing you should be doing is _confirming you are home alone._ ”

“I’m not alone,” Taekwoon protested. 

“Which is why _I_ will answer it, not you,” Hakyeon said. “Get away from the door.”

“It’s probably just a deliveryman,” Taekwoon said.

“ _Don’t make me smack you, Jung Taekwoon,_ ” Hakyeon said. Taekwoon took three large steps backwards instinctively; for the very first time, he almost kind of understood how Hakyeon might be—scary.

Especially since he was threatening violence with that regular mild smile on his face. It made it seem like he was potentially ready to hurt someone at any given second, which Taekwoon supposed that being a bodyguard, he probably was.

The buzzer rang again; Hakyeon pushed the button.

“Hello?” he asked in a fairly loud voice; the sudden clatter of someone releasing the button downstairs made it infinitely clear that whoever pushed it had not been expecting a voice other than Taekwoon’s. Hakyeon gave him a smug look.

“Told you,” he said.

Taekwoon sighed.

 

Recording went quite well; Nari and Hakyeon chatted quietly while Taekwoon was in and out of the booth, and Taekwoon was able to forget about the whole mess of a situation for a while and focus purely on the music. Every time he looked back at the pair of them, Nari was either giggling or blushing, and Hakyeon was talking with that warm, friendly smile on his face.

He wasn’t totally sure why it kind of bothered him, only that it did.

After his sound director called the session to an end, Taekwoon approached the pair slowly, hoping to eavesdrop on the conversation that had Nari so... enamored.

“At some point I guess I just chose this, but it feels a bit like I’ve given up, you know?” She was saying. “Not that I regret anything, but everyone around me keeps telling me I should give it up, go get married, kids... I’m not sure I really even _want_ any of that.”

“Families are always like that, I think,” Hakyeon replied easily. “They look at what makes them happy in their lives and assumes it must be the same for everyone. If you’re happy with your life, then they should accept that.”

“Exactly!” Nari said, putting a hand on Hakyeon’s arm. “That exactly it, yes! They need to just get over it.”

Taekwoon felt a guilty flush wash over him. Nari had been his manager for almost two years now, and somehow he’d never heard any of this before. He realized with another pang of guilt that really, he didn’t know that much about her, nor had he ever asked. She was with him almost every day, but Hakyeon had managed to go deeper into understanding her in four hours than he’d done in twenty-two months. Plus, he seemed genuinely interested and invested in the conversation.

That bothered him even more, for some reason.

“I’m done,” Taekwoon said. His voice must have sounded a touch sharp, because Nari looked at him with a frown of confusion, and Hakyeon looked at him with a knowing raised eyebrow. 

“To the gym, then?” Hakyeon said, turning his smile to Taekwoon. Taekwoon nodded at him and gathered his things without looking at Nari; she’d glanced between the two men once, and he didn’t really want to think about what her expression implied. Hakyeon took Nari’s heaviest bag for her.

“I can carry it, it’s fine,” Nari started to say, but Hakyeon shook his head.

“You have other things to hold,” He said. “I don’t mind.”

Taekwoon minded.

“Aren’t you supposed to be protecting me?” he complained. “Your hands are full.”

“This may come as a shock to you,” Hakyeon informed him, “but I can put things down quite easily.”

Taekwoon felt himself flushing; he attempted to push forward and avoid looking at either of them, only to feel Hakyeon grabbing the collar of his shirt and yanking him backwards.

“I go first,” Hakyeon reminded him with a pointed look. “Then you. I am supposed to be protecting you, after all.”

Taekwoon knew he was flushing again, and he was equally sure Nari had noticed, because he distinctly heard her snicker somewhere behind him. 

 

Nari dropped them off at the gym; she saw little point in hanging around when Taekwoon was there, largely because it was boring and, she said, smelled like dirty socks. Hakyeon seemed utterly unaffected by the odor, but he scouted out the entire place before he let Taekwoon in any area. He even checked the showers, selecting a stall for Taekwoon to use himself. There was something inherently weird about going into a public-ish shower and having someone not just knowing you were there, but knowing _specifically_ where you were.

For the most part, Hakyeon stayed out of the way and quiet while Taekwoon worked out. It was another opportunity to forget about the stress in his life and focus on something tangible; unfortunately, his eagerness to zone out left him going through motions without actually thinking about them—which is probably why Hakyeon appeared to spot him while he was lifting hand weights. Somehow, he’d completely forgotten to flag down a staff member.

“I didn’t expect to have to be protecting you from yourself,” Hakyeon commented dryly. “I guess I overestimated your survival instinct after all.” 

“I don’t need—” Taekwoon began to tell him, exactly as his right hand’s grip on the weight slipped. He had the sense to let it fall entirely rather than potentially wrench something trying to catch it.

Then Hakyeon caught it, one-handed.

Easily.

“For goodness sake,” he scolded, rolling his eyes and stabilizing the weight with his other hand. “At least wear gloves if your palms sweat.”

Taekwoon stared at him, still shocked. Hakyeon sighed heavily as if Taekwoon was being deliberately frustrating and held the weight out to him.

“You’re here to work out, not me,” Hakyeon sniffed. Taekwoon finally took the weight from him; it was heavy. It was exactly as heavy as he thought it was. It was _precisely_ as heavy as he thought, and Hakyeon snatched it _one-handed_ like it was a _toy_.

“Wait,” Taekwoon said as Hakyeon started to move back. “Wait, hang on. Hold this.” He held the weight out again.

“No,” Hakyeon said.

“Please,” Taekwoon said, adding a hint of whine. Hakyeon rolled his eyes again, but he took the weight—with one hand.

“Okay, now what?” he asked.

“Isn’t it heavy?”

“It’s a weight,” Hakyeon said, back to his dry tone that Taekwoon was beginning to recognize as ‘I am barely putting up with your nonsense right now’. “They tend to be heavy.”

“Isn’t it heavy _for you_?” Taekwoon pressed.

“Not particularly,” Hakyeon said. 

“ _Why not?!_ ” Taekwoon demanded. Hakyeon’s expression changed to one of sheer confusion. He finally looked as baffled as Taekwoon felt.

“Because I can lift more than this?” Hakyeon answered. “That’s usually how weight lifting works?”

“You’re too slim to be able to do that,” Taekwoon insisted. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Hakyeon raised his eyebrow, and Taekwoon felt a flush blooming.

“When I said I dragged an angry teenager back to his house, I meant that quite literally,” Hakeyon informed him. “How many times am I going to have to tell you I’m good at my job before you believe me?” He held the weight out for Taekwoon to take back, which he did sheepishly. I wasn’t that he _didn’t_ believe Hakyeon, he just couldn’t quite reconcile that belief with what seemed to be reality.

He went back to his routine, with Hakyeon moving out of his way when he was done lifting. Taekwoon did catch himself glancing at Hakyeon on multiple occasions, trying to picture how he could be muscled under the well-tailored suit, before realizing that was an incredibly inappropriate way to look and think about someone who was technically his employee. 

On their way back to the car, however, he noticed for the first time that Hakyeon had what could only be described as a “thick booty.” Probably a combination of natural gifts and excellent squatting form. Since Hakyeon tended to leave buildings in front of him, he found himself looking at it a lot.

It was incredibly distracting. And embarrassing, because Nari caught him staring and elbowed him quite hard in the ribs for it.

 

After Nari dropped them off at his apartment again (with boxed meals she’d acquired for them, unasked, while they were at the gym), Taekwoon sighed heavily. Another day, another night of poor sleep and awkwardness in his own home. He was getting used to Hakyeon; it was easier to relax around him somewhat, and Hakyeon was very good at being around without being invasive.

“Has your manager always been generous like this?” Hakyeon commented, seemingly pleased by the boxes. Taekwoon nodded, but his face must have been showing a different expression, because Hakyeon laughed.

“I’m not interested,” he said, smiling. “Flattered, but no.”

“Right,” Taekwoon said, relieved despite himself. As he opened the door, he tried to step forward, but Hakyeon’s arm shot out in front of him, holding him back.

“Hold on,” Hakyeon said, suddenly whisper-soft. “Don’t move.”

Taekwoon froze. Hakyeon dropped the boxes on the floor, toed off his shoes and stepped inside, utterly silent on his feet. He was heading towards the kitchen; the refrigerator was barely visible from the entryway, but when Taekwoon realized where Hakyeon was headed, he felt a jet of icy fear roll down his spine.

Normally, his fridge door was absolutely covered in photos of his family, in particular Minyul. They were layered over each other as he continued to add them, never removing older ones as time went by. At first glance, nothing had changed; the fridge was still covered in photos.

But they weren’t Minyul.

She never shot her face, but it was without question the stalker.

Hakyeon was moving again; he checked each room quickly, but thoroughly, looking under furniture and in closets that Taekwoon would have just assumed were too small for a person. On reflection, considering the size of his stalker, she probably could fit inside quite easily. 

Now he was afraid of his own closet. Fantastic.

Hakyeon came back, looking alert, but peaceful. He held out his hand and without thinking, Taekwoon took it and allowed himself to be escorted into his own apartment. As soon as he realized he was doing it, he dropped Hakyeon’s hand like it was on fire and nervously rubbed his palm on his jeans.

“Do you want to see it?” Hakyeon asked, “Or would you rather I get rid of it?”

“I want to see,” Taekwoon said firmly. “And I want to know where the other pictures went. If she took them, she knows what they look like.”

“They’ll need protection as well,” Hakyeon elaborated. “Of course.”

The scene was disturbing in multiple ways. The pictures slapped across his fridge somehow never showed enough of her face to be recognizable, and it was clear that she’d taken them all in the apartment. There was a series of his jewelry on her hands, wrists, and neck; he immediately wanted to throw every single piece in the trash. Another set seemed to be her putting his shirts on; she had at least just worn them over her clothes, rather than undressed. The longer he looked, the more he wanted to just step outside and set the entire apartment on fire.

Hakyeon was plucking them off, seemingly at random, collecting a neat stack in one hand.

“Why those?” Taekwoon asked, realizing Hakyeon was examining them before selecting.

“Look,” he said, holding a picture out. “She has pierced ears.” Another. “She has a mole on her chin.” A third. “She bites her fingernails. She’s left-handed. She can tie a necktie; her uniform probably has one. She’s underage, in high school. Her vest has a crest on it, probably from her school as well.” 

“Why does any of this matter?” Taekwoon asked.

“Because we can find her. And when we do, we can prove she was here. She hasn’t put her full face anywhere, assuming that’s enough to protect her identity. It’s a naïve assumption,” Hakyeon said, placing the stack on the counter. “People are more than a face, and faces aren’t reliable identifiers anyway.”

When Taekwoon just stared at him, he gestured over his own face.

“Nearly 30% of women and girls in this city have had cosmetic surgery of some kind, and men and boys aren’t that far behind in number,” he pointed out. “You can change your face; you can’t un-bite your nails, or make yourself taller, or erase freckles.”

“So we can find her?” Taekwoon asked, suddenly hopeful that maybe this nightmare would be over. Hakyeon had given him more reassurance in fifteen minutes than Taekwoon had gotten in nearly three weeks.

“As soon as we know what school’s uniform she’s wearing, we’ll have her,” Hakyeon said with a smile. “It will be hard to get any sort of serious punishment, being that she’s a minor, but at the very least you can get a proper restraining order.”

Taekwoon must have looked too relieved, because Hakyeon gently added, “Until then, you’re still stuck with me. Sorry.”

“Are you really a bodyguard?” Taekwoon said, somewhat suspicious now. “You sound like a detective. Or a lawyer.”

“Just a humble bodyguard,” Hakyeon said with a laugh. “BIGGS is very thorough about training.” He looked at the refrigerator again, scanning the photographs.

“What agenc—”

“Do you know this man?” Hakyeon interrupted him abruptly, sharp, holding out a photo. The girl was in his bedroom, wearing one of his shirts; it was only after a moment of staring that he realized there was a reflection in the mirror in the background.

The man had a snapback pulled low, so it was hard to really see his face, but he didn’t look even slightly familiar.

His face must have communicated as much, because Hakyeon frowned.

“She has an accomplice,” he murmured. “That’s going to be a problem.”

“What do you mean?” Taekwoon asked. He noticed that when he was looking at Taekwoon, Hakyeon’s expression stayed relatively warm and friendly, for the most part, but if he looked away...

The heaviness in his eyes was difficult to even gauge. 

“I’m sorry,” Hakyeon said suddenly, looking at Taekwoon with a truly apologetic smile. “I don’t think you should stay here tonight. This changes things.”

Taekwoon hated this. He hated not being safe in his own fucking home. He hated that this girl had worked her way in by claiming to be a fan, when she was clearly just disturbed, making all the _actual_ fans look bad. He hated whoever it was that was helping her do this shit, disrupting his life when he’d worked so hard to make sure things were _comfortable_ for himself. He hated that he, a grown ass man, apparently needed a fucking _babysitter._

Hakyeon’s hand rested gently on Taekwoon’s tightly crossed arms. Taekwoon refused to look at him.

“It’s not forever,” he said quietly. “This will end, and you can go back to how you were. I promise.”

“You don’t know that,” Taekwoon said bitterly. The hand on his arm squeezed, just for a second, before Hakyeon was pulling it back. He’d put the wad of photos deemed evidence inside his jacket pocket, and pulled out his phone.

“Don’t contact Nari,” he said, scrolling through his contacts.

“Why not?” Taekwoon asked, and Hakyeon froze momentarily. It took a few seconds before Taekwoon realized there was only one reason Nari would be left out of the loop. Hakyeon looked at him apologetically.

“I can’t rule her out yet,” he said softly. “I got some information today, but not enough.”

“That’s why you were talking to her?” Taekwoon asked. “To... investigate her?”

“Did you know she’s in some financial difficulty?” Hakyeon asked. “She phrased it as ‘careless behavior in college’. If she’s hurting for it, it wouldn’t take much for her to give someone access, if they promise not to actually harm you. It’s naïve to assume they would keep their word, but she is generally quite naïve.”

Taekwoon felt like he’d been slapped. Nari? Nari could be in on this?

“If she needed money, she could have told me,” he said. “I can pay her more. The company technically pays her, but she does enough for me that I wouldn’t mind.”

“I believe you,” Hakyeon said. “But she’s proud.” He went back to his phone, finally finding the number he was looking for. It only rang twice before picking up; Taekwoon moved slightly closer, hoping to overhear the conversation.

“Wonshik,” Hakyeon said. “It’s me. Is the Insadong safehouse clear right now?”

“Not even close,” a man, Wonshik, answered. “I’m here with mine, and Sanghyuk’s got his.”

“All of you?!” Hakyeon said, sounding alarmed. “Why are all of you there?!”

“Ours were supposed to perform tonight, but there was a bomb threat called into the building,” Wonshik explained. “Seemed wise to get both of them out of the way for a bit. They’re friends anyway.”

“Damn it,” Hakyeon muttered.

“You could still come,” Wonshik said. “There’s enough space, they expanded it in April, remember? Six rooms now.”

Hakyeon paused, then sighed.

“Hang on, I’ll check,” he said, pulling the phone from his ear.

“Your choices are a completely unsecured hotel full of strangers which additionally will cost you a pretty penny, or a semi-crowded safehouse containing two other performers and their respective bodyguards,” he explained.

“Wait,” Taekwoon said, suddenly connecting dots. “Lee Jaehwan and Lee Hongbin. They were doing an event tonight to promote their musical.”

“You know them?” Hakyeon asked.

“I was planning to drop by before all this shit happened,” Taekwoon said. “I haven’t seen them in a while though.”

“Are you okay sharing space with them? You’d still have your own room.”

“Jaehwan is really loud,” Taekwoon informed him. “It’s—I’ll be fine, but he’s _really_ loud.”

“Wonshik,” Hakyeon said, turning back to his phone. “We’re on our way. Please ask Hyukkie to adjust Jaehwan’s volume, if possible.”

“Roger that,” Wonshik said. “See you soon, hyung.”

Hakyeon hung up, stuffing the phone back into his jacket pocket, before looking at Taekwoon with a serious expression.

“Alright,” he said, “Listen carefully. We’re going to consider this an active threat situation. That means the only person you should talk to is me until I tell you otherwise. This includes face-to-face. No friends, no family. Only me. We’re going to a safehouse to figure out where to go from this point, so pack a bag with enough to get you through three days, just to be careful.”

“If I’m gone three days, Nari is going to flip,” Taekwoon pointed out.

“I will handle the situation with Nari,” Hakyeon said. “I don’t want you communicating with her in any way.”

Taekwoon’s arms were still crossed tightly, but he felt his shoulders hunching up too as he stared at the refrigerator in despair. Why would Nari do this? Did she not understand how dangerous it was? Why would she bully him into hiring Hakyeon in the first place if she was the one enabling the stalker and her friend? Was Hakyeon just insurance, making sure that there was back up in case they didn’t keep a promise not to hurt him somehow?

Hakyeon stepped close, putting his arms around Taekwoon in a warm hug.

“I’m sorry this is happening,” he said gently, “but I promise you are safe with me, okay?”

Taekwoon didn’t return the hug, but he also didn’t pull away. He did, however, drop his head until his forehead was resting on Hakyeon’s shoulder. By all rights, he should have exactly zero trust in someone he’d known for a couple of days. He was even seriously regretting trusting Nari at all. Yet, somehow... trusting Hakyeon came a lot more easily. He didn’t even like hugs that much, but he couldn’t deny that it made him feel a little better.

“Let’s pack your bag,” Hakyeon said softly, releasing him and smiling. He put a hand under Taekwoon’s chin and lifted his face up.

“You can do this,” Hakyeon told him. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Taekwoon wanted to believe him; he nodded, and Hakyeon withdrew his hand. He gestured out of the kitchen and Taekwoon passed him, headed to his bedroom to pack, but at the last moment Hakyeon’s hand touched his elbow. When Taekwoon turned back, Hakyeon wordlessly handed him a photo: Minyul, in a hat significantly too large for him, with a big smile.

Taekwoon held it to his heart.

“Now,” Hakyeon said, “Packing.”

 

They took a taxi to an elementary school. When Hakyeon told the driver to stop, Taekwoon wondered if he’d made a mistake with the address; when he asked Hakyeon as much, he laughed.

“It’s to hide the location,” he said. “It would be a terrible safehouse if you could just march up to the front of it, wouldn’t it? We get off here, and walk. It’s not far.”

That made some degree of sense, so Taekwoon followed Hakyeon silently. He was mentally preparing himself to being in a small space with Lee Jaehwan for an extended amount of time. It wasn’t that he was awful—far from it. He was a very friendly, warm, bubbly person. The problem was quite literally his volume, which tended towards “high” and “shrill.” He didn’t know Lee Hongbin as well, but had no particular issues with him that he could immediately recall.

Hakyeon walked them to a small, simple-looking apartment building.

“Third floor,” Hakyeon said, “Elevator.”

“Not stairs?” Taekwoon asked.

“Can’t see what’s in front of you, or what’s coming behind you,” he explained. “Elevators are safer.” Taekwoon accepted this, getting in the dingy, poorly lit elevator in front of Hakyeon and pushing the 3rd floor button with a degree of resignation.

When the doors opened, there was just a single door directly in front of them—and a keypad.

Which Hakyeon completely ignored, choosing instead to knock.

“What’s the point of that then?” Taekwoon asked, pointing.

“If nobody’s here,” he said. Before he could continue, there was a buzzing sound; Hakyeon waved at a tiny camera over the keypad.

“Who’s there?” a tinny voice asked.

“It’s me!” Hakyeon chirped.

“Who are you?” the tinny voice asked again. Hakyeon huffed a great sigh of indignity.

“Azealia boy,” he grumbled. “ _Jerk._ ”

The door swung open, revealing a tall, lean young man with soft eyes; he was wearing tailored slacks, black like Hakyeon’s, and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and almost one too many top buttons undone. He looked offensively comfortable.

“Geez, hyung,” he said in a petulant baritone. “You could have at least brought us pizza.”

“Or beer!” another voice shouted from inside. Hakyeon immediately looked murderous.

“I am _never_ buying you alcohol young man,” Hakyeon snapped back. “And don’t _yell_ in the _safehouse_!”

“So,” the man holding open the door said, waving them both inside with quick glances behind them, “what’s going on that has you on the lamb?”

“Please stop reading mystery novels, Wonshik,” Hakyeon said with a tired sigh. “You’re learning strange words.” Putting a warm hand on Taekwoon’s back, Hakyeon pulled him forward a little. “Jung Taekwoon, Kim Wonshik.”

“JUNG TAEKWOON?!”

“Oh no,” Taekwoon said, putting his face in his hands.

“It _is_ you!” Jaehwan hollered, delighted. “What are you doing here?! Are they bombing you too?!” A very tall, broad young man put an arm around his waist and heaved him backwards. The fact that he was dressed identically to Wonshik, combined with what Hakyeon had already told him about Jaehwan, meant he must be the kid.

“ _Nobody_ is getting _bombed_ ,” he said. “And stop _running to the door to meet strangers._ ”

“Hyukkie!” Hakyeon said, almost as delighted as Jaehwan. 

“Mother, please,” ‘Hyukkie’ said, wincing. “I’m at work.”

“Jung Taekwoon, this is my precious baby, Han Sanghyuk,” Hakyeon introduced. Taekwoon stared at him in silence. Hakyeon wasn’t kidding about him being huge. No matter how he looked, he could see absolutely nothing about Sanghyuk that would indicate “baby.”

Then Hakyeon patted his cheek lovingly, and Sanghyuk pulled a face that was 110% child-being-publicly-embarrassed-by-family; Wonshik actually snorted behind him.

“Wow, guests?” Lee Hongbin said dryly, joining the fray. “Are we having a bomb-threat party, or are you just dropping in?” Taekwoon waved at him.

“We didn’t get a bomb threat, no,” Hakyeon said once he was finished cooing over Sanghyuk. “Stalker. With an unknown male side-kick.”

“She broke into my house,” Taekwoon explained. “Twice. With her friend, apparently.”

“Might as well join us then,” Wonshik said, shrugging; Hongbin mirrored the gesture and moved back into the apartment’s main living area.

“We’ve got a Playstation,” Hongbin threw over his shoulder.

“BOMB THREAT SLASH STALKER PARTY!” Jaehwan shouted.

“Look,” Sanghyuk said, reaching around from behind Jaehwan to put a very large hand over Jaehwan’s mouth. “I know I told you this place is soundproof, but can we at least _pretend_ I didn’t do something that stupid?”

“Nope, you’re dumb,” Jaehwan chirped. “I’m going to make sure you know it!”

Sanghyuk seemed to be fighting with the desire to be angry, only to crumple under Jaehwan’s incessant cheerfulness and smile fondly. Taekwoon suddenly got the impression the pair of them were not strictly in a business relationship; a glance at Hakyeon told him he was not alone in this thought, because Hakyeon was watching them with one critical eyebrow raised. When Sanghyuk noticed he was being stared at, he puffed up defensively.

“What?” he asked, crossing his arms in such a way that made his biceps strain against his shirt sleeves.

Hakyeon sighed, walking away, but just before he passed Sanghyuk, he tapped him on the shoulder.

“He’s not _that_ cute,” he commented.

“He definitely is,” Wonshik countered, also moving in the direction Hongbin had disappeared to. Hakyeon shot him a dirty look that he ignored, and Sanghyuk had a dirty look of his own to pitch at Wonshik’s back.

For a moment, everyone was walking away, leaving Taekwoon standing awkwardly alone in the entryway. Then Hakyeon turned to look back over his shoulder; when he saw Taekwoon not moving, he came back and grabbed his hand.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I trust everyone in here, you can too.”

“I’m awkward,” Taekwoon said suddenly, feeling the need to prepare Hakyeon for his odd behavior.

“A little,” Hakyeon agreed. “But the rest of this bunch are weird in their own ways, so I don’t think it will stand out particularly.”

“How do you know that?” Taekwoon asked. “That they’re weird, I mean.” Hakyeon blinked.

“I trained Wonshik and Sanghyuk myself,” he said. “Wonshik is—do not repeat this—a complete marshmallow in the guise of a semi-intimidating man. Sanghyuk manages to look pretty cool while actually being a complete nerd. That said, they’re both good judges of character; the fact that they decided to share the safehouse means they consider this combination trustworthy and safer than any of the other options they had. Wonshik could have turned us away when I called; there are other safehouses, just farther away.”

“But he said to come to this one,” Taekwoon said.

“Exactly,” Hakyeon said, smiling. “He wouldn’t have done that if he thought it was a risk for anyone. So, it’s fine.”

Hakyeon squeezed the hand he was holding.

“Please—”

“I trust you,” Taekwoon interrupted him. Hakyeon looked both touched and flattered.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “Now let’s go in and track down some food. Assuming those kids haven’t inhaled it all already, of course.”

“Kids?”

Hakyeon waved his free hand vaguely in the direction of the other four.

“The kids. They’re all younger, basically children.”

“Jaehwan is—”

“A _complete baby._ ”

“...fair.”

“Anyway,” Hakyeon said, reaching out to take Taekwoon’s other hand and tug him gently. “Food. You must be starving.” Taekwoon nodded, letting Hakyeon lead him.

This time, he didn’t let go of his hands.

 

“Alright, time to rock-paper-scissors,” Hakyeon said as the night wore down. Everyone was pleasantly full of the huge batch of instant ramyeon Taekwoon generously cooked for them, and Jaehwan had already fallen asleep with his head in Sanghyuk’s lap twice; the second time, Sanghyuk just left him there with a resigned sigh. Hongbin was yawning repeatedly despite being utterly glued to the controller, sitting on the floor in front of the TV. Sharing the generously-sized sofa with Sanghyuk were Wonshik, Hakyeon, and at the very end, Taekwoon.

Wonshik, Sanghyuk, and Hakyeon held out their hands for a quick, decisive round; Sanghyuk was immediately eliminated, and he gave a victorious fist-pump. The next round, Wonshik won—but he smiled at Hakyeon.

“I’ll stay,” he said.

“It’s fine, Wonshik,” Hakyeon said. “I—”

Wonshik jerked a thumb in Hongbin’s direction.

“He’s got at least another hour in him, and he sleeps in late whenever possible,” Wonshik explained. “I mostly keep his schedule now anyways. You’re on alert, you should rest.”

Hakyeon looked about to argue, but Taekwoon was on Wonshik’s side as soon as he figured out what they were talking about.

“He didn’t really sleep yesterday,” he informed Wonshik. 

“I can go three days,” Hakyeon countered.

“Can,” Wonshik repeated. “Shouldn’t, but can. Who was it that told me sleep was important? I can’t quite remember...”

“Fine,” Hakyeon grumped, clearly recognizing he was outnumbered. “I’m getting up at six to relieve you though.”

“Seven,” Wonshik corrected him. “And no dozing, hyung. Actually sleep. Make sure he’s properly unconscious, okay?” He looked at Taekwoon on the last direction, as if Taekwoon had any sort of control over Hakyeon. Taekwoon was pretty sure he did not, but he nodded anyway. Hakyeon saw, and huffed.

Sanghyuk very gently woke Jaehwan up by lifting his shoulders; protesting against the action, Jaehwan put his arms around Sanghyuk’s neck and muttered sleepily into his shoulder. Sanghyuk sighed, then put an arm under his knees, scooping him up bridal style.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” he informed Jaehwan, who was half-asleep again already.

“Since when have you been doing it for the money?” Hakyeon commented dryly. Sanghyuk gave him a pointed look before carrying his charge to one of the many rooms with beds. When he closed the door behind him with a foot, Taekwoon realized suddenly that despite there being enough rooms for everyone... they were going to share.

Oh.

“It’s very unethical,” Hakyeon sighed. “Sweet, but still unethical.”

“Ethics,” Hongbin snorted, apparently listening to the conversation more than Taekwoon had thought. “Arbitrary rules that ignore perfectly normal human feelings.” This response made Hakyeon immediately snap his gaze to Wonshik, who just as immediately tried desperately to avoid eye contact and sink through the sofa.

“Wonshik,” Hakyeon asked with narrowed eyes. “Have _you_ been unethical recently?” Before Wonshik could answer, Hongbin did.

“Oh, not recently,” he said. “Since ages ago.”

Wonshik put his head in his hands.

Oh.

“I spent _weeks_ training you two on professional ethics and boundaries,” Hakyeon scolded. “You took an _exam._ Now you’re out here being _very inappropriate_ and—”

Hongbin dropped his controller and turned around, without actually getting up from his spot on the floor.

“We spend basically 24/7 together,” he pointed out with a slight degree of visible judgment. “One, that generally makes dating other people unreasonably uncomfortable.” He seemed to cringe at the very idea.

“I mean,” Wonshik said, “I’d make an effort to be less intrusive.”

“Two,” Hongbin said, pretending as though Wonshik hadn’t spoken, “You seem to only train really good, warm people that don’t just act as a meat-shield, but are also almost excessively emotionally supportive.”

“It’s excessive?” Wonshik said quietly. Hongbin glanced at him, a touch apologetic.

“Not like, _bad_ excessive,” he told Wonshik. “Just... a lot.”

“Should I stop?” Wonshik asked. Taekwoon was very confused how a man looking like Wonshik could simultaneously be something quickly approaching a teddy bear.

“No,” Hongbin said instantly, firmly. “I need you.”

Taekwoon sincerely felt he shouldn’t have been in the room when this was happening; he wasn’t entirely sure he should have been in the building. There were Feelings going on and he was notoriously bad at Feelings. He glanced at Hakyeon nervously, unsure—but then Hakyeon’s hand was on his knee, patting softly, then just settling there. He could feel the warmth of Hakyeon’s hand through his jeans.

“Honestly, you should have expected this would happen,” Wonshik said to Hakyeon, nodding his head in the direction the other two went. “It’s Lee Jaehwan. Hyukkie never stood a chance.”

Hakyeon sighed.

“Aren’t you supposed to go sleep?” Hongbin reminded them pointedly.

“Fine, fine,” Hakyeon said, standing. “No funny business out here though, or I will beat you both.”

“Technically if you try to beat me, he has to beat you anyway,” Hongbin said, pointing at Wonshik. Wonshik immediately held up his hands.

“Sorry, but no,” he said. “I don’t feel like dying today.” Hakyeon patted him on the cheek.

“Smart boy,” he said. “Goodnight.” Hakyeon held out his hand again for Taekwoon to take; this time, Taekwoon _did_ pause to think about it.

Then he decided to do it anyway. He could feel Hongbin staring at him critically, but he decided to pretend like he didn’t know, and let Hakyeon lead him towards the bedrooms, their bags in his free hand. It was a short hallway, considering, and the rooms were just this side of cozy rather than cramped with a double bed in each.

“Which do you want?” Hakyeon asked him. Taekwoon pointed to a corner; he always felt better in corners as a general rule. Hakyeon nodded and tried to let go, but Taekwoon refused to drop his hand. Hakyeon looked down, confused, then up at Taekwoon’s face.

He didn’t say anything, but he was blushing.

Hakyeon raised an eyebrow at him.

“This place is soundproof,” Taekwoon said, remembering abruptly and throwing it out as an excuse. “If I have another nightmare, you won’t hear me.”

“I’m supposed to sleep,” Hakyeon pointed out with a sigh, putting their bags on the floor.

“So sleep with me,” Taekwoon said before properly sorting through words in his brain. “I mean—that’s not—it’s a double, so—”

“After I just scolded them on ethics, you want to sleep together?” Hakyeon said, clucking his tongue. “It’s like you weren’t even listening.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Taekwoon protested, certain he was the same shade as a cherry by this point. Hakyeon smiled at him and laughed, reaching up to pat his cheek fondly.

“I know,” he said. “I’m teasing. You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

He was going to catch fire. Right there, in the hallway, he was going to spontaneously combust. The mystery of human combustion would be solved: it’s Hakyeon. It’s Cha Hakyeon. He is the cause of them all, somehow.

“Alright, the corner then,” Hakyeon said, closing his fingers around Taekwoon’s hand again. Taekwoon made a soft noise that even he didn’t completely know the meaning of, and Hakyeon turned around to look at him again, but _carefully_.

“You’re nice,” Taekwoon squeaked. 

Hakyeon stared at him for quite a bit longer. He seemed to be waiting for Taekwoon to continue, but that was actually all Taekwoon had to say, and he was both unsure why he said it, and why he hadn’t said something better. He dropped his head in embarrassment but Hakyeon was lifting up his chin again, like in the kitchen.

“Don’t hide,” he scolded very gently. “You don’t have to be embarrassed by saying sweet things.”

“I am embarrassed,” he mumbled.

“Because you’re not used to it,” Hakyeon said, still gentle. “You haven’t had opportunities to be sweet, so it’s embarrassing. You’ll adjust.”

“Isn’t it weird?”

“What is?”

“Calling you nice.”

“It’s only weird if you’re lying,” Hakyeon said. “Are you?”

“No.”

“Then it’s not weird, is it?” Hakyeon beamed at him. “It’s a lovely thing to say, thank you.”

“I don’t understand you,” Taekwoon informed him, because he didn’t. He didn’t understand where Hakyeon had come from, or why he managed to slot himself neatly into Taekwoon’s world despite him doing absolutely everything possible to ensure _no one_ could do such a thing. He didn’t understand why he was holding Hakyeon’s hand, why he wanted him close, or why calling him ‘nice’ felt both necessary, and utterly inadequate.

Plus he was still low-key scared of Hakyeon after the whole weight lifting thing.

“To be honest,” Hakyeon said, turning around so he could lead them towards the room again, retrieving their bags, “Nobody really does.”

Taekwoon wasn’t at all sure why this statement _bothered_ him so much, like a stomachache but in his chest, twisting. He didn’t like the words, and he didn’t like the sound of Hakyeon’s voice when he said it. It wasn’t the honey-sweet tone he used. It was _bitter_ and _sad_ , and the longer Taekwoon thought about it, the worst the twist in his chest got. By the time they stepped into the bedroom, Taekwoon watched Hakyeon shut the door and check the latch, and realized he wasn’t willing to let it pass without doing something.

So he hugged Hakyeon.

“I’m going to try,” Taekwoon mumbled. “To understand you.”

Hakyeon seemed frozen; he hadn’t moved or spoken, and he didn’t seem like he was about to.

“I’m really bad at this stuff, but I—I want to try,” he said, hoping that something he said would turn Hakyeon back into the warm, sweet person he’d been before, instead of this stalagmite of a man. He became hyper-aware of the way his arms didn’t fit snugly around Hakyeon the way Hakyeon’s fit around him. Was he doing it wrong? Had it been that long since he actually hugged someone, so he forgot how? 

Maybe Hakyeon just didn’t actually like him, and had just been doing his job.

A chill ran down Taekwoon’s spine, and he let go; his arms fell uselessly to his sides and he bit his lip, dropping his head—why was this so _hard_?

“Why?”

Taekwoon looked up. Hakyeon wasn’t looking at him; he was looking at the floor, like it was important somehow. Why? 

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to understand me?” Hakyeon clarified to the floor.

“You said nobody does,” Taekwoon answered, his own confusion a constant cloud around his mind.

“Nobody,” Hakyeon echoed. “Nobody wants to.”

“I want to,” Taekwoon said.

“ _Why?_ ” Hakyeon repeated again.

“Because—because everybody likes you, and you do stuff for them, but they never do anything back for you and they _should,_ ” Taekwoon said, hoping that in some way matched his actual thoughts. Hakeyon was still looking at the floor, so he decided to make a very brave attempt: a joke.

“Also I think you could bench press me, so I want to stay on your good side,” he added.

Hakyeon jerked his head up in surprise, saw the expression on Taekwoon’s face, and immediately burst into delighted laughter. It was such a good, joyful sound that Taekwoon couldn’t help but be proud of causing it; he was smiling, big and happy, then Hakyeon put his hands on Taekwoon’s cheeks—and Taekwoon’s hands seemed to just naturally find themselves on his waist.

“I knew you had good survival instincts,” Hakyeon said. Then he went up on his toes and kissed Taekwoon on the forehead.

When he came back down, it took every ounce of willpower in Taekwoon’s body not to kiss him back. 

“Gosh, it’s late,” Hakyeon said, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. “We really should sleep.”

“Yeah,” Taekwoon said, somewhat dazed. “Sleep, right.” Hakyeon let go of his face and Taekwoon followed his hands instinctively, wanting the touch back. Hakyeon laughed again, gently shooing him away towards the bed.

“Choose a side,” Hakyeon said. “I don’t care either way.” Taekwoon had to picture his room to remember how he usually slept; it took a few seconds to figure out it was the left, and a few seconds more to realize that if he took the left in _this_ bed (pushed to the corner) that would place Hakyeon between him and the wall. It seemed... ill-advised.

“Right,” he announced, grabbing his bag from the floor and digging until he found a t-shirt and shorts.

He turned around to ask Hakyeon where he should change, only to see that Hakyeon had already taken off his button-down; his back was facing Taekwoon and he hadn’t removed his undershirt, but the shape of his shoulders was extremely pleasing—to the degree that Taekwoon whipped around before he got caught staring. He changed quickly, hoping Hakyeon wouldn’t turn around. As soon as he got his shorts on, Taekwoon glanced over his shoulder; Hakyeon was folding his shirt neatly and putting it in his bag. He was back in the loose t-shirt and sweats he’d worn—was it really only yesterday?

Had so little time passed, when it felt like weeks?

Hakyeon straightened and met Taekwoon’s gaze, smiling.

“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing at the bed. Taekwoon nodded, climbing in first with his back to the wall. He typically slept on his side; it wasn’t until Hakyeon got in after him that he realized how phenomenally awkward it was to basically be facing him. For his part, Hakyeon seemed utterly unaware that it was strange and turned on his side—facing Taekwoon. 

“Sleep,” he said quietly, reaching out to smooth Taekwoon’s hair. “Busy day tomorrow.”

Maybe it was because he knew Hakyeon was right; maybe it was because he was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Either way, he felt the pull of sleep immediately, drifting off while Hakyeon’s fingers were still lightly brushing against his forehead.

 

Taekwoon was gently awoken by Hakyeon at eight; he was already fully dressed except for his suit jacket.

“Rise and shine,” he said with a smile. “We have to get back to your apartment before Nari comes to pick you up.”

Taekwoon nodded and dragged himself to the bathroom; he passed by an incredibly groggy looking Jaehwan in the kitchen, staring at the bowl of cereal he was inhaling as if it had personally insulted him; Sanghyuk was next to him with an entire bunch of bananas in front of him, which he seemed to be polishing off at considerable speed.

Hongbin and Wonshik were nowhere in sight, but one room’s door had been closed when he passed it. Hakyeon’s lecture on ethics seemed to have fallen on deaf ears after all.

By the time he was out of the shower, Hakyeon had placed his bag just outside the door; it was a degree of foresight Taekwoon still hadn’t adjusted to. He dressed and went towards the kitchen.

“I’m just saying, this is a temporary assignment,” Sanghuk was saying to Hakyeon. “Don’t you think you’re getting too attached?”

“You were supposed to be temporary too,” Hakyeon pointed out.

“Yeah, and look how attached you got,” Sanghyuk countered. “What are you going to do when this is over?”

“I’ll—there will be other clients, of course,” Hakyeon said.

“And you’re okay with that?” Sanghyuk asked, sounding incredibly skeptical. “You’re fine with peacing out of his life like that?”

“Of course I’m not _fine_ ,” Hakyeon snapped. “But it is what it is. I won’t be needed anymore. That’s the end.”

“You and I both know that’s not how you do things,” Sanghyuk replied.

“That’s how it’s going to be done this time,” Hakyeon said; his voice had that sad bitterness again, the same as the night before. “It doesn’t—how I feel about the situation is irrelevant. I’m an intrusion in his life, just like I _always_ am. Even you waved me off with a smile.”

“I saw you three days later for training,” Sanghyuk countered. “It was hardly a goodbye.”

“Let’s drop this,” Hakyeon said. “I’m done with it.” Sanghyuk sighed loud enough to be heard from the hallway; Taekwoon waited a few seconds more before entering so no one would suspect him of eavesdropping. He got the impression from the look on Sanghyuk’s face that he knew anyway. Hakyeon smiled at him and held out a mug of coffee, which Taekwoon accepted gratefully.

“Nari’s going to pick you up at nine-thirty, so I think we should head out and try to be there at nine-fifteen at the very latest,” Hakyeon informed him. “We also need to make sure nobody broke in last night.” Taekwoon nodded, trying to sort through the conversation he’d just overheard. It was a bit hard to parse, but it sounded like Hakyeon was... convinced Taekwoon would just kick him out of his life as soon as the stalking situation resolved itself. Taekwoon had no intention of doing that; he said he wanted to understand Hakyeon and he meant it. That was hardly something he could do in a couple of weeks. Plus, there was always the possibility—no, _probability_ —that something else would arise. Hakyeon had been an exceptional bodyguard so far; there was no reason to let him go.

“Are we taking a taxi again?” Taekwoon asked, the warmth of the coffee mug radiating from his hands.

“Yep,” Hakyeon said. “I’m going to call one, I’ll be right back.” He left, heading towards the main room. As soon as he was out of earshot, Sanghyuk stood up and moved directly in front of Taekwoon; he drew himself up to his full height, which emphasized how _big_ he was.

“Look,” he started, face deadly serious, but Taekwoon kind of had an idea of what this was going to be about, and interrupted.

“I’m not ditching him,” Taekwoon said firmly. Sanghyuk looked taken aback.

“You’re not?” he asked, confused.

“No,” Taekwoon said. “I like him.”

He did—a lot, weirdly, especially considering how little he really knew about Hakyeon, but even he wasn’t stupid enough to not notice his own feelings at this point. He was a bit surprised he’d been able to say it out loud; he couldn’t say it to Hakyeon directly yet, but verbalizing it came more easily than he’d expected.

“AWWWWW,” Jaehwan said loudly from behind Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk still looked confused, but when Jaehwan reached out to grab him by the back of his belt and drag him into his seat again, he seemed relieved.

“See?” Jaehwan told Sanghyuk in between spoonfuls of cereal. “I said it’d work itself out, didn’t I?”

Sanghyuk looked at Jaehwan, who just beamed at him, then turned back to Taekwoon.

“If you break his heart,” he told Taekwoon with a dangerous expression, “I’ll break your neck.” Jaehwan reached out and pet the back of Sanghyuk’s neck until his face softened. It kind of reminded Taekwoon of an owner of a Rottweiler: fierce looking until his owner scratched behind his ears, turning him instantly into a puppy again. 

“Taxi’s on it’s way,” Hakyeon said, coming back into the kitchen. “We should start walking.”

“Take care,” Jaehwan said, waving.

“Listen to Hakyeon-hyung,” Sanghyuk said seriously. “He won’t steer you wrong.”

“I know,” Taekwoon said immediately. When he turned around, Hakyeon was staring at him, noticeably surprised.

“What?”

“I just—nevermind,” Hakyeon said. Taekwoon could have sworn there was a dusty pink shade to his face that hadn’t been there before. “Let’s go. Hyukkie, have Wonshik text me later, okay?” Sanghyuk nodded his agreement, shooing them away with one hand.

The walk back to the cab was quiet, but comfortable. Taekwoon kept deliberately walking too close to Hakyeon so their arms brushed. If Hakyeon noticed, he didn’t say anything. By the time they got to the front of the elementary school, the taxi was already there waiting for them.

“What should I tell Nari if she asks... anything?” Taekwoon asked Hakyeon quietly as they pulled away.

“As little as possible,” Hakyeon said. “As far as she should know, you were home all night. If she says anything that suggests she knows otherwise, she’s basically incriminating herself.”

“I still can’t quite... believe she’d do this,” Taekwoon admitted. Hakyeon put a hand on his knee again.

“If it helps, I doubt there was any malice in this,” he said. “Just desperation and naivety.”

Hakyeon asked the taxi to stop just around the corner from Taekwoon’s building; as they rounded it on foot, Taekwoon immediately saw that Nari’s van was already there—as was Nari. Taekwoon froze, but Hakyeon tugged him forward gently and smiled; it would be fine. Hakyeon was here, it would be fine.

“Nari,” Hakyeon called out, waving. Taekwoon stuffed his hands in his pockets, forcing himself to look casual.

“Hakyeon! Taekwoon!” Nari said, visibly upset. “Where were you?! I’ve been here for ages!”

“I ran out of coffee,” Taekwoon said, shrugging. The lie came faster than he thought it would. “Hakyeon wouldn’t let me go by myself to get more.” He tried to sound annoyed; he wasn’t sure it was very convincing, but Nari seemed relieved.

“You scared me!” she scolded, smacking him on the arm once they were in reach. 

“Sorry,” he said, not particularly meaning it. Nari had never seemed... this concerned before. Not even when the girl pulled a knife on him the first time. She was paler than usual, almost sick-looking. “Are you okay?” he asked her, still struggling to believe she was, somehow, in on this whole mess.

“No, I’m not!” she snapped. “You’re supposed to be safe, not wandering around on the street!”

“I wasn’t wandering,” Taekwoon insisted innocently. “I went to the grocery store.”

“Fine, just—fine,” Nari said, fed up. “Let’s just get your stuff, we have to go.”

Hakyeon stayed quiet, his professional mild smile glued in place. Taekwoon got the feeling only he noticed how strangely cold the expression was. They went inside, up the elevator, Nari tapping her foot impatiently the entire ride. It was hard to tell if she was mad because they’d scared her, or if it was something else.

At the door, Taekwoon put his key in the lock and turned—but it didn’t move. Confused, he turned it the other way, and heard it click loudly; it locked.

Which meant it had been unlocked already.

Taekwoon immediately stepped back from the door, holding the key out for Hakyeon to take. He knew that door had been locked when they left—he was _certain_ of it. For one, he never forgot to lock it, and two, he highly doubted Hakyeon wouldn’t have checked it.

“Why... why was it—” Nari started, shocked, but Hakyeon shushed her. He unlocked the door again, slowly, then pushed it open even more slowly.

There were a pair of girl’s school loafers in the doorway, lined up neatly like they belonged there.

“No,” Nari said immediately. “No, she’s not—she _can’t_ be here.”

“Quiet,” Hakyeon said, sharp and low, but Nari wasn’t listening. She bolted into the apartment, not even stopping to take her own shoes off. Taekwoon reached out an arm to try and catch her, but she was too quick.

“Where the hell are you, you stupid girl?!” Nari shouted. Hakyeon looked at Taekwoon, a question in his eyes. Taekwoon nodded; of course they’d be going after her. Even if she was in on it (and increasingly, it was clear that she was) that didn’t mean she deserved to get hurt. The pair entered the apartment but more cautiously.

“Come out!” Nari was demanding from the doorway to his bedroom. “I told you not to hang around, didn’t I!?”

“You can’t have him!” a girl’s voice shouted back. “He’s _mine_ , and an old lady like you can’t keep him from me!”

Something felt wrong. Nari was acting like the girl was the only thing to worry about; Taekwoon and Hakyeon were far more concerned with her male accomplice. Was it possible Nari didn’t even know about him?

Nari stormed into the bedroom and grabbed the girl by the upper arm, forcibly dragging her out and shaking her.

“You _stupid_ girl,” she raged, “I told you to stay out while he was home, didn’t I!? I told you!”

“ _You don’t get to tell me what to do,_ ” the girl hissed at her. Her next movement was so fast, Taekwoon didn’t realize what had happened until Hakyeon was already moving. Nari dropped to the floor, clutching her stomach; Taekwoon dropped down beside her, pressing his hand over the bleeding wound and praying it wasn’t fatal. Hakyeon smashed the girl back against the wall, one forearm pressing on her collarbones to pin her in place, the other grabbing her wrist and smacking it against the wall until the box knife in her hand hit the ground. He kicked it away with one foot, eyes never leaving the girl.

“You’re done,” Hakyeon snapped at the girl; he was angry. “You just stabbed someone; you can’t get away from this. It’s over. Give up before you make it worse.” He loosened the arm across her throat enough to let her speak.

“She’s so fucking rude,” the girl gasped. “She deserved it, she always gets in the way of us.”

“There’s no _us_ ,” Taekwoon said, desperately trying to make her listen to reason. “There never will be!”

“You just don’t know, oppa,” she snapped back. “I’m your _soulmate_ , believe me!”

“ _Give up,_ ” Hakyeon repeated. “You’re a minor, you might get off light if you just _give up right now._ ” Her eyes darted from Taekwoon to Hakyeon, a sudden flash of anger blooming.

“You want him too,” she said. “Fuck off.”

Hakyeon sighed.

“I hate doing this,” he said right before delivering a swift, controlled punch to her stomach. She crumpled as he released her, hitting the floor hard and groaning. Hakyeon rolled her onto her front and pulled her arms behind her back, pulling a zip tie out of his back pocket and cuffing her with it.

“Nari’s bleeding a lot,” Taekwoon said immediately. “We need an ambulance.”

“And the police,” Hakyeon said. “Call them.” Taekwoon stood, pulling out his phone and realizing with horror that his hands were absolutely covered in blood. He stared at them in shock.

The only notice he hand that something was happening was the sudden smell of cigarettes; instinctively he ducked, finding his reflexes hadn’t faded as much as he’d thought, since his days of sports. He heard the soft slice of air over his head as a knife swished by, apparently aiming for his face.

Taekwoon dropped to his hands and knees and scrambled backwards, trying to get out of reach. The guy was _huge_ , at least two-hundred centimeters and a minimum of one hundred kilograms. He dwarfed Taekwoon in every measure.

He felt Hakyeon grab the back of his shirt and pull; he slid across the floor, rolling onto his side and straightening.

Hakyeon stepped in front of him; his suit jacket was balled up against Nari’s stomach.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said calmly. “You’re both done, just stop this before it goes any farther.”

“You punch my sister to the floor and think you’re getting away with that?!” the man snarled back. “Forget it motherfucker, I’m gonna end you both.”

“One last chance,” Hakyeon said. “Stand down.”

“Fuck you,” the man spat.

Hakyeon stepped in with his right foot, so close Taekwoon gasped; then he pivoted, turning his back against the attacker’s chest and planting his left foot solidly on the ground. He grabbed the man’s knife arm with both hands, bent his knees slightly, and popped his hips up at the same time as bending over.

A man who definitely weighed almost double Hakyeon went flying over his shoulder like he’d been ejected off the ground. He landed hard on his back, and Hakyeon immediately ground his heel into the man’s wrist until he dropped the knife. Another swift kick to get it out of reach, then he grabbed him by the throat, pulling his head up once and dropping it back against the hard flooring once, twice—then it was over, his eyes rolling up as he was knocked out. Hakyeon didn’t release his hold until he was sure that the man was truly unconscious.

Without missing a beat, he flipped the absolutely massive dead weight over and cuffed him too.

Then he stood up, whipped out his phone, and called.

“This is Azelia, at the Songbird’s. There’s been a break-in,” he said, icy calm. “A woman has a stab wound; two burglars are restrained. We need police and an ambulance immediately. Active threat status is still in place; I need two people at minimum to secure the block and keep out the press.” A pause; Taekwoon suspected the information was being repeated back to him, because he nodded, before hanging up.

“BIGGS will take care of it,” Hakyeon said. He knelt next to Nari; her eyes were closed, and for one terrifying moment, Taekwoon thought she was dead. Then her eyes fluttered open again.

“You did a stupid thing,” Hakyeon informed her softly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered back.

“I know,” Hakyeon told her. “Help is coming. I don’t think it’s serious, but we’ll keep pressure on it just in case.”

Taekwoon was shaking. At first, only his hands quaked, but then slowly it spread across his entire body. Even though he was still sitting on the floor, he felt like he was going to fall down. Everything happened so _fast_. 

_Hakyeon_ had been so fast.

No sooner had the thought cleared his mind than Hakyeon dropped down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Taekwoon-ah,” he said, quiet but firm, “Are you okay? Are you hurt in any way?”

Taekwoon shook his head, but Hakyeon seemed determined to check anyway, looking at the back of his head where he’d barely dodged the knife.

“I ducked,” Taekwoon said.

Hakyeon hugged him. His hold was so warm, so comforting, Taekwoon leaned into it. Fear was still driving his heart to gallop but Hakyeon had started gently rocking them back and forth, easing his nerves. Taekwoon closed his eyes, trying to focus only on Hakyeon.

Then he was abruptly and violently thrown to the floor. As soon as he looked up, he saw Hakyeon execute a flawless 360 turning roundhouse kick directly into yet another man’s face. He dropped like a stone.

“For _fuck’s sake_ ,” Hakeyon said, turning around to face Taekwoon and putting his hands on his hips like a displeased mother. “How many stalkers do you have?!”

Taekwoon gaped at him.

“Well!?” Hakyeon demanded.

“I don’t know?” Taekwoon said meekly.

“I can’t leave you alone for a _second_ until this is figured out,” Hakyeon said, throwing his hands up in the air.

“So don’t?” Taekwoon suggested. “Leave me, I mean.”

Hakyeon stared at him, then opened his mouth to speak before being immediately interrupted by pounding on the door.

“BIGGS,” someone shouted from the hallway. “The ambulance is here!” Hakyeon sighed, but marched briskly to the door. He tapped a rhythm against the surface, and got one in return that seemed to be what he wanted, because he opened it wide and gestured in.

“She in the main room, as are the two—no, wait, three perps. One of them probably also needs medical attention.”

A group of emergency personnel came in, taking Nari and the stalkers out of the apartment to waiting vehicles; looking out the window of his bedroom, Taekwoon could see news vans stuck behind barricades on either end of the street. He heard Hakyeon coming up behind him, which he took to mean Hakyeon intended to be heard.

“This was temporary,” Hakyeon said quietly.

“It was business then,” Taekwoon replied. This seemed to surprise Hakyeon, because he went silent for a few moments.

“Do you mean—”

Taekwoon turned to face him.

“Hongbin is right,” Taekwoon said firmly. “Your ethics are dumb.” Then, to emphasize his point, he put his hand on the back of Hakyeon’s head and pulled him in for a kiss. A part of him immediately envisioned Hakyeon throwing him across the room—but Hakyeon didn’t fight him. Quite the contrary: he made a soft noise, wrapping his arms around Taekwoon’s waist and opening up to him. Taekwoon’s heart was thundering again but with significantly less fear.

“I like you,” Taekwoon said as soon as the kiss broke. “I’ll pay you more if that helps.”

Hakyeon laughed, then kissed him again, deep and confident, until Taekwoon’s head was spinning.

“Well, I do think I deserve a raise after all of that,” he said, smiling into Taekwoon’s neck. “That big guy was _heavy._ ”

“You threw him like a ragdoll,” Taekwoon felt the need to point out.

“Leverage,” Hakyeon said. “It’s all about leverage.”

“Wait,” Taekwoon said, making a sudden realization. “Is _that_ why Sanghyuk is afraid of you? Did you throw him?”

“Oh, repeatedly,” Hakyeon said brightly. “He deserved it. Now _he_ throws other people around, I’m so proud of him. Also for a while I either smacked him or kissed him on the cheek, and he never knew which one it was going to be. He’s slightly paranoid about it.”

“Why would he be scared of you kissing him?” Taekwoon said. “Your kisses are great.”

Hakyeon put his hands on Taekwoon’s cheeks.

“You are _so cute_ ,” he said, squishing a little. “Stop.”

“Okay,” Taekwoon said.

“I’m joking, don’t stop,” Hakyeon answered immediately.

“Okay?” Taekwoon said, trying not to get confused.

“Cha-ssi?” someone called from the main room; Hakyeon sighed and left go of Taekwoon’s face to return to the scene of the crime, as it were. There was a man in the center holding a clipboard.

“Oh,” he said upon seeing Hakyeon’s face. “Professor Azealia!”

“ _Will you brats stop calling me that,_ ” he snapped, visibly annoyed. “I haven’t taught you all in months!” Taekwoon put a hand on his elbow. The stranger did seem slightly cowed by Hakyeon’s response, because he held out the clipboard meekly.

“I need your statement,” he said. “Sir.”

 

Taekwoon decided not to press charges against Nari. She had genuinely thought only the girl was involved, and thought the risk wasn’t that severe. He did press charges against all three attackers, but didn’t follow the results; thinking about it still made him anxious, and it was much easier to just wash his hands of it all and call it done.

Hakyeon started refusing to accept paychecks, arguing that since he basically lived with Taekwoon for all intents and purposes, he was simply earing his keep. Taekwoon didn’t really have a good argument against that, and instead used the money he would have been paying Hakyeon to buy a nicer sofa for him to relax on.

He didn’t sleep there, of course, but they had more than a few quiet evenings together on the new, ridiculously comfortable couch. 

“Jung Taekwoon,” Jaehwan said from behind him; their small party was meant to be a celebration of Hongbin’s newest movie role, but somehow it turned into just a slightly rowdy pizza party. Taekwoon had been getting plates when Jaehwan snuck up behind him—quietly, for once.

“Lee Jaehwan,” Taekwoon said back.

“There is one bedroom in this apartment,” Jaehwan said. “I just checked.”

“Rude,” Taekwoon said.

“What about ethics?” Jaehwan asked him with a knowing smile. Taekwoon blushed.

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Are you sleeping with him?” Jaehwan interrupted. “You are, right?”

“Literally or figuratively?”

Jaehwan kicked his shin.

“Ow!” Taekwoon said; Hakyeon materialized out of _thin air_ behind Jaehwan, grabbed him by the ear like a naughty child and twisted.

“Listen here, young man,” he scolded. “You do not kick people. That’s very rude.”

“Mother, let him go,” Sanghyuk said, appearing with almost equal speed.

“You have the _weirdest family dynamic_ ,” Jaehwan whined at them both, earing himself a slightly stronger twist.

“I will put you down on the floor and keep you there,” Hakyeon warned him.

“He is not exaggerating,” Sanghyuk informed Jaehwan.

“Aren’t you supposed to keep people from hurting him?” Taekwoon asked Sanghyuk, confused. 

“Technically,” Wonshik said, leaning in, “We’re only contractually obligated to keep you alive. You might lose an eye or something, but you’ll live.”

“Wow,” Hongbin said in a very flat monotone. “I feel so protected and safe, Wonshik, thanks.”

“That’s not fair,” Wonshik whined. “Come on, you know if I went at Hakyeon _I’d_ die, and then who’ll pick up your controller when you throw it?”

“I could get a dog,” Hongbin replied.

“WE GET IT, EVERYONE IS BEING UNETHICAL,” Jaehwan shouted. “LET ME GO NOW PLEASE?!”

Hakyeon released him, but gave him a half-hearted neck chop as he fled. Sanghyuk booked it after him, followed immediately by Hongbin and subsequently Wonshik. The kitchen that had so abruptly filled was now empty, except for himself a still-mildly-pissed Hakyeon.

“Hakyeon?”

“Hm?”

“Does... the ethics thing bother you?” Taekwoon asked gingerly. Hakyeon shook his head, then smiled. He wrapped his arms around Taekwoon’s waist and pulled him in for a hug, resting his chin on Taekwoon’s shoulder.

“Not really,” he explained. “I’m just kind of annoyed I spent literally hours explaining to Sanghyuk why he absolutely could not sleep with Lee Jaehwan as soon as I heard he was being assigned. Jaehwan’s gone through two other bodyguards; they both resigned because they _fell in love with him._ ” Hakyeon sighed; Taekwoon patted him on the back gently.

“You probably should have anticipated that happening again,” he admitted.

“Oh, I did,” Hakyeon said with another sigh. “I didn’t think Jaehwan would _love him back._ ”

“Wonshik?”

“If there was ever a human being soft enough to handle Lee Hongbin’s extreme bitterness, it would be Wonshik,” Hakyeon said. “Not a shocker.”

“And us?” Taekwoon asked. Hakyeon was quiet for a while, but Taekwoon didn’t let go.

“It sounds stupid to say,” Hakyeon said finally, but Taekwoon made an impatient noise, so he continued. “But this feels right. Good. And how could something good be wrong?”

“It can’t,” Taekwoon said firmly. “This is great and you’re right.”

Hakyeon pulled away just enough to smile before kissing him sweetly.

“Don’t forget,” he said, still sugary-soft, “I will fucking break you if you do something stupid, even if I do love you.”

“You love me?” Taekwoon asked, his chest fizzing in delight. “Really?”

Hakyeon turned bright red; he put his palms on Taekwoon’s chest and exhaled very deliberately.

“I—”

Taekwoon cut him off.

“Don’t break me,” he whined. “I love you too.”

“PIZZA!” Jaehwan screamed as the buzzer rang. 

“SIT THE FUCK DOWN AND STAY AWAY FROM THE DOOR _PLEASE!_ ” Sanghyuk yelled immediately after.

“THIS BUILDING IS _NOT_ SOUNDPROOF,” Hakyeon hollered at them both.

Taekwoon just threw back his head and laughed.


End file.
